December 23

Oh, this day. This day shall go down in history for its series of not-funny travel-related mishaps. And because of how God ultimately moved through it all in unlikely ways. Buckle up. This is a long one.

This was our year to head back to Maryland for Christmas, so COVID Omicron-ness be darned, that was our plan and our vaccinated selves stuck to it. It was raining (hard) when I woke up this morning, so the saga began on something of an iffy note. Nonetheless, we left the house (and thank you, thank you to our awesome house sitter Mary) at 9 AM and arrived at the airport in Oakland in good time. Adam dropped the kids and I and our mound of bags at the terminal and headed off to park the car. So we checked the luggage, cleared security, and headed to the gate, where we encountered the first (small) hiccup of the day: our flight to Las Vegas was delayed 20 minutes. Not a huge deal, really, but then we boarded and that 20 minutes grew to 30... and then 40... as we sat there at the gate, on the plane. Not moving. 

The flight attendants explained that there weren't enough baggage handlers to get the work done in a timely fashion. That news prompted a woman several rows behind us to launch into a profanity-laced tirade (spoiler alert: our first of multiple tirades today) that I guess took a physical turn, because after we'd at long, long last backed away from the gate and were seemingly about to get in line to take off, a pair of gents with badges boarded, paid a visit to the unruly woman, and asked her in no uncertain terms to get off the plane. She refused, so a few minutes later, we all had to get off. (I had no idea it worked that way. Go figure: gives new meaning to the old mom-threat of turning this car around and heading home.)

So as my faint dreams of actually making our connector in Vegas died a sad, sad death, we all huffed and grunted our way off the plane and back into the gate area. As we waited to re-board, many phone calls were made as we tried to figure out if we'd still be able to pick up our rental car at BWI at 2 AM, the time that our rebooked connector was slated to drop into Charm City. (By the by, apparently no one ever answers the phone at rental car desks so don't try it. It's an exercise in futility.) By the time we finally got back on the plane, we still had no answer.

So where was I? Right, we re-boarded in Oakland at, oh, 3'ish. Three-plus hours late. But the new connector was booked out of Vegas and it felt like we were on the right track. And things were good until I asked the man sitting next to Abby to please put on his mask. Cue 20 minutes of under-his-breath cursing in our direction, followed by 15 minutes of him staring at me. And I mean fixed-gaze, sitting sideways in his seat, stone-cold staring. I could feel the hatred. I finally asked if I could help him with something, which prompted him to tell Abby her shoes were stupid (or something equally ridiculous) and to call me a pathetic loser. And then he cussed some more. I tried to be nice in return; I said I was sorry his day was going so poorly and tried to talk about baseball since he was wearing a jersey, but no dice. More cursing, which prompted the woman in front of him to stand up and tell us both to be quiet or she'd call the flight attendant. I sure as kittens didn't want that to happen again -- I preferred taking abuse over yet another delay and potential deplaning -- so I closed my eyes and prayed; I prayed for this man who was so angry that he cussed out a complete stranger who was trying to be kind. I prayed for his heart and wondered if one of the reasons we were delayed was so I could pray for him. I think he needed it.

Anyhow, that situation fizzled out (thankfully) and when we got to Vegas, we long-hauled it from our arrival gate to our very-far-away departure gate, where I suggested that we get the gate agent to help us with our rental car question since I figured maybe airport employees had access that normal traveling peons do not. (I was right, for the record: she called BWI and BWI called her back and confirmed that rental cars are available for pick-up 24/7.) Then it was Wendy's for dinner sitting at the gate by all of those slot machines. And at long last, right around the time we were originally supposed to get to Maryland, it was time to board the flight to Baltimore. Unfortunately, since we were a late-game rebook, we were in the C boarding group (and two of us were nearly last to board), so I warned Isaac and Brady that they'd probably have to sit in middle seats in random places since the flight was full. But amazingly enough, that didn't wind up happening. There were literally no seats together until I reached the very back of the plane, but right there, in said-back, were not just two but five seats in a nice little row, just waiting for us. And proximity to highly trafficked airplane lavatories aside, my heart leapt when I saw them because they felt like such a gift from God. 

We had a great crew of flight attendants and though it took off more than an hour late the ride was peaceful, so I breathed prayers of thanksgiving as I worked to craft a giant granny square. (Don't ask.) And I marveled over how I've changed: I was frustrated all day long, but I never really lost my cool. I closed my eyes and asked God to come in and to help me to cope. And I coped! This not especially naturally patient girl coped. I didn't get overly upset over the delays. I didn't throat punch the guy who was rude to me and Abby. And I remembered to close my eyes and thank God for His help. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Back to hurtling through the air toward the east coast. Yes. Peaceful flight. When we landed at zero dark thirty (because honestly, I have no idea what time it was at that point), we headed to baggage claim (where our bags were almost the last to appear on the carousel) and then took the shuttle to the rental car facility. One minivan later, we headed over the river and through the woods toward Great-Grandmother Connie's house. It was smooth sailing, save the large deer standing in our lane at one point along the way but we didn't hit it so it's cool.

So here I am, staring at the glow of my laptop screen at some ungoshly late (early?) hour relaying this story to you from my old bedroom at my grandma's house. I'm exhausted so bear with me, but I wanted to offer up some nuggets of encouragement before I pass out. One is to remind you to always remember to give thanks, regardless of your circumstances. Take it from me: it helps. Truly. The other is to urge you to pray for those who do evil to you. I have no idea why that guy was so angry, but I felt compassion for him and I genuinely hope his tomorrow is better than his today. And that simple act of prayer kept my anger from boiling over and turning me into, well, him. 

Be better. Do better. Love better. No matter what.